


Talk

by UninspiredPoet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort & Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: Ashe has a key to Angela's apartment.She's had a key to Angela's apartment for years, now. It only makes sense that she goes there when she needs medical attention.Except it's never that, really. It's never been that.Or; Ashe has a very slight emotional breakdown wrist-deep in Angela Ziegler.
Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nice-nereesa (vice_vereesa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vice_vereesa/gifts).



  
_I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus_  
_When her body was found (Hey ya)_  
_I'd be the choiceless hope in grief_  
_That drove him underground (Hey ya)_  
_I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee_  
_That made him turn around (Hey ya)_  
_And I'd be the immediate forgiveness_  
_In Eurydice_  
_Imagine being loved by me!_

Ashe stared down at the floor because she couldn’t look at Angela. She was almost sure Angela had just asked her something, actually. Almost.

“You won’t even look at me,” 

The observation had been dripping with so much accusation and...hurt that Ashe had no choice but to finally lift her eyes to what she’d been avoiding so skillfully until now. 

It was always the anger she had the hardest time dealing with when it came to Angela. It was the anger, because Angela hid it from so many people. All the time. But she didn’t hide it here. She didn’t hide it from Ashe when they were alone together and Ashe had done something stupid. Again. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashe whispered. Her voice was so soft there wasn’t even any twang to it. A little muffled from the split in her swollen lip. Another heist. And this one, Ashe had barely made it out of.

Angela knew all that, of course. Angela always knew. Ashe hated it. Mostly. 

“I don’t think you know how hard it is to...to care about you in any capacity. As though you come limping to me for some noble reason and not some disastrous scheme.” Angela’s voice was fraught with...not emotion. Perhaps the struggle to contain that emotion. The faintest tremor. The slightly heavier than usual accent. 

“Wasn’t disastrous,” Ashe responded, knowing Angela didn’t care. She just felt particularly petulant right now. 

Angela sighed quietly and bit her lower lip before she finally moved towards Ashe and reached down for her chin. The tenderness with which she tilted it upward wasn’t surprising to Ashe. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. 

“You want your key back yet?” Ashe asked quietly, and again, Angela sighed. 

“Why do you always make it this way?” Angela asked, sliding her bag from her shoulder and dropping it on the couch next to where she’d found Ashe sitting. Waiting for her in the dark. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. 

Ashe didn’t answer. 

Angela brushed her thumb gently over the split in her lip and then slid her hand higher to cradle the side of her face. “I’ll fix you up.” 

Ashe swallowed thickly and slowly turned her face towards Angela’s palm to press her lips against the heel of it in an almost-kiss. 

“I’m fine.” 

“I know,” Angela humored her, because that’s what Angela did. She opened her bag anyway, but only after keeping her hand where it was for a while longer. She always carried certain things with her. Some of them, rather mundane and unsurprising. Others, perhaps things only Angela Ziegler would have on her person.

Things that made a split lip a very minor, temporary issue. And Ashe sat utterly still for her as though she’d been chastised both because she had been, and because Angela was the only person in the world she’d take it from. 

Maybe Angela knew that. Maybe that’s why Ashe still had a key to her apartment. 

The aches and bruises were gone soon enough, and then came the moment that would probably always fill Ashe with tension. The moment of nothingness that stretched on forever between Angela closing her bag and then finally speaking. Ashe never knew what would come next. She’d convinced herself of that a long time ago, despite all evidence to the contrary. 

“You should be more careful with your face,” Angela murmured as she stood in front of Ashe. 

Ashe clenched her jaw and reached to touch along the backs of Angela’s legs. “Why?”

“It’s such a beautiful face,” Angela responded without hesitation. “Like the rest of you. I swear I feel each cut more than you do.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Ashe said quietly, her touches along Angela’s legs growing a little in their confidence. “You didn’t do this. I did.” 

“I know,” Angela said with an almost tired-sounding chuckle. “Come to bed.” 

The relief flooded Ashe so suddenly she feared she might drown in it. 

They both knew she hadn’t come here over a split lip. She also hadn’t come here over any of her other various injuries. Even the more serious ones. There were plenty of doctors out there. But none of them were Angela. None of them took the edge off or sharpened it right back to a razor edge the way she did. 

“You sure about that?” Ashe asked, and Angela watched as the corner of her mouth quirked faintly. 

“I’m always sure,” Angela reassured quietly, reaching to run her hands through Ashe’s hair to draw it away from her face. “I’m always sure about you.” 

Ashe made a noise in the back of her throat that was a strange mixture of appreciation and discomfort. Her hands trailed higher and stroked along the curve of Angela’s ass, and Angela reached behind herself to guide Ashe’s hands away and help her stand. 

“Bed,” She reiterated quietly as their bodies met at the same time as Angela pressed their foreheads together. “You can wait ten minutes, can’t you? I need a shower.” 

“I can wait a lot longer than that,” Ashe’s voice was a whisper very near to her lips. 

Angela wished Ashe would just kiss her. 

As though Ashe was fully aware of this fact, she tilted her head just enough and slipped her hands slowly around the small of Angela’s back beneath the coat she was still wearing. Almost a kiss. Excruciatingly close. 

“We can just sleep,” Ashe offered, her lips grazing Angela’s with every word. “Would you prefer that?” 

Angela huffed quietly as her patience waned. 

“Alright,” Ashe responded in a slow drawl that told Angela they were nearly out of the space in their relationship that Ashe liked the least. The deep parts that threatened to consume her. 

Ashe was always more comfortable when she could touch the bottom. Angela understood that feeling, entirely. 

When Ashe finally kissed her, she didn’t linger. She didn’t tease at Angela’s lips with her tongue the way Angela knew she would later. It was just soft and warm and sure, and then she was pulling away. 

Ashe always respected Angela’s requests. For showers. Water. Anything, really. Like it was ingrained in her. Like she was raised that way. 

Angela knew that wasn’t true. Angela knew that every fiber of the being that was Elizabeth Caledonia was entirely her own doing. She loved her all the more for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angela hadn’t bothered to get dressed after her shower. She just dried herself off and wrapped her towel around herself to wander across the bathroom towards the mirror.

She caught her own gaze in the still-hazy glass and looked, for a moment, at the darkness beneath her own eyes. She thought, for a moment, that she might have more reason to sleep if Ashe were more reliable. If she weren't constantly working for lack of anything better to do. 

As if summoned, Ashe cracked the bathroom door behind her.

“Angela, can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Angela watched the door open further in the mirror, and her eyes wandered alone Ashe’s naked body as the harsh lighting of the bathroom fell over it. She was stunning. Even the few steps it took her to press herself against Angela’s back were too many. 

She was here now, though. Slowly unfurling the towel separating them as she locked eyes with Angela in the mirror. As the towel fell to the floor, Angela's eyelids fluttered at the feeling of Ashe’s rough, gentle hands slowly and appreciatively making their way up her stomach and over her chest.

“You're so pretty, Ange,” Ashe murmured against her shoulder, and Angela drew in a slow breath as Ashe teased at her nipples with the tips of her fingers. 

“You always know just what to say,” Angela responded, and Ashe chuckled against the sensitive skin behind her ear because she liked it when Angela lied to her. “You feel good, Ashe.”

Ashe huffed quietly against the nape of Angela’s neck through her damp hair and made the conscious decision not to press her down over the sink and fuck her then and there. A difficult decision, really. She'd like to think she deserved some recognition for her self control, but one thing Angela couldn't do was read minds. Thank god.

“You ready for bed?” Ashe asked as she gathered Angela’s hair and slowly pulled it over the front of her shoulder so she could kiss along the back of her exposed neck.

“I'm ready for more than bed,” Angela breathed as she pressed her ass back against Ashe’s hips, further inciting her. Further encouraging her. 

Ashe didn’t take the bait as enticing as it was. She wanted to get Angela to bed. She wanted all the warmth and comfort and normalcy of it wrapped into the neat, easily navigable package of sex. But mostly, she knew Angela preferred the bed. So, she slowly pulled away from her and ran her fingertips down the line of her spine before slipping back through the bathroom door and towards the bed. 

Angela let out a soft breath when she saw Ashe’s hat hanging on the bedpost like the cover of some music album. Angela had always thought it looked good there. Like it belonged. And as her eyes trailed from the hat to the way Ashe looked sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, she wished very much that both the hat and the woman who wore it belonged. In this apartment. In this bedroom. To her. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” Ashe asked with a lift of her brows as Angela approached her to stand in front of her. This time, there was no hesitation before Ashe was stroking up the backs of her thighs. 

“You just look good here...like this,” Angela responded simply, and Ashe smiled a smile that might have been a little too self-assured if Angela didn’t know any better. If Angela didn’t wish that smile graced those red-painted lips much more than it already did. Or at least more genuinely. 

“I look better with you under me,” Ashe’s voice was an easy drawl that threatened to raise the hairs along Angela’s arms. Had it really been so long that she was affected so easily? 

“Would you be offended if I told you I agree?” Angela asked without missing a beat despite the almost never-ending inner commentary her thoughts so generously provided her with. 

Ashe’s smile faded faintly into something so soft as to be almost unrecognizable as she slid her hands around to Angela’s hips to pull her closer to the edge of the bed. When Angela’s knees hit the front of it, Ashe’s lips found her stomach just beneath her navel to place a kiss far too soft to be as fiery as it felt. 

“Far from it,” Ashe whispered as she gave Angela’s hips another slow pull and rolled them the moment Angela began falling on top of her - easily and neatly like Angela weighed nothing at all.

Angela liked the way it made her feel when Ashe did things like this. Such a literal representation of the control she needed so desperately to relinquish. 

“Like this?” Ashe asked in a whisper against Angela’s ear as Angela’s hands slid slowly up her back. 

Just in case the fact that she’d already wrapped her legs around Ashe’s waist wasn’t enough of an answer, she murmured a soft yes that broke into an even softer moan when Ashe rolled her hips. 

Ashe didn’t waste any time reaching between them. She wanted to know. She wanted to know how much Angela wanted this. Wanted her. 

She exhaled a slow, shuddering breath against Angela’s shoulder when she found her already wet. 

“Acceptable?” Angela asked as though she had any control over this. 

“You’re teasing me an awful lot tonight,” Ashe observed as her attention roved lower- leaving a searing trail across Angela’s chest as Angela’s head fell against the pillows and she drew in a sharp breath. 

“No more teasing,” Angela breathed, catching the sides of Ashe’s neck and tracing along the tops of her ears with her thumbs as she felt sudden, sharp attention against one of her nipples. “I promise.” 

Angela’s thighs tightened around Ashe’s waist when Ashe’s teeth found purchase and tugged. The sting was immediately soothed by the wet heat of her tongue, and Angela tugged at her hair. 

“That means you, too,” Angela whispered breathlessly. Ashe’s hand had never moved. All the while it’d been stroking along her inner thighs and grazing against her - frustratingly close to giving her even a fraction of what she needed. 

Ashe smiled and lifted her head, moving back up over Angela and looking down at her. She paused there long enough that Angela began to speak. Whatever words she’d been meaning to utter were lost in a low, heated ‘yes, ma’am,’ from Ashe that threatened to wrench what little self-control she had left from her entirely. 

Two fingers followed that drawl. Slow and deep and sure as they curled and stretched her, and Angela let her legs fall from around Ashe’s waist to give her room to move even as her nails left deep, red crescents in Ashe’s shoulders. More than enough to sting. More than enough to ensure those marks would be there in the morning to remind them both. 

Ashe let out a sharp puff of breath against Angela’s jaw as she nudged at it to gain access to her neck. One of the many gifts of Angela’s unique profession was the fact that Ashe could leave as many marks as she wanted to, wherever she wanted to. Angela could keep them or have them gone at her leisure, and Ashe just loved looking at the soft red bruises across her neck and her collarbones. 

Not that Angela didn’t appreciate them. She was writhing against Ashe. Trembling. Panting desperately as a third finger joined the first two. 

“More,” Angela breathed, and Ashe murmured her understanding into the crook of Angela’s neck. 

Ashe was still working Angela steadily as she reached blindly towards her end table with her free hand. The blue haze of the holo-clock flickered and disappeared as it clattered to the floor, but neither of them noticed. Angela had found Ashe’s lips with her own and was kissing her like a woman starved even as Ashe reached blindly into the drawer she’d managed to open and found a familiar bottle all without faltering enough for Angela to voice any complaints.

Not that she wasn’t otherwise occupied with their deep, bruising kiss - endlessly thankful Ashe’s lip wasn’t in the state it’d been in when she’d arrived. Not when every breath each of them took was sharp and almost frantic as Ashe’s fingers filled her again and again. 

It was Ashe that finally broke the kiss to slow things down when Angela reached for the hand holding the lube impatiently. 

“I’ve got you,” Ashe gasped, leaning her forehead against Angela’s and popping the cap with her thumb. “I know.” 

It was the steadiness in Ashe’s voice that had Angela taking in a series of slow, steadying breaths. Breaths she was thankful for when the cool liquid from the bottle dripped down over her clit and along Ashe’s fingers to pool in her palm. 

Angela was glad, really, for the change of pace. Even when she was half out of her mind, she still often tried to re-assume control. It was just in her nature. 

Ashe knew that as well as she did, and it was something she found easy to navigate. At least, here. At least, now. 

Angela released her hold on Ashe’s hand and let some of the tension bleed from her as Ashe tossed the bottle she’d been holding aside in favor of kneading Angela’s thigh. Ashe could feel it. The moment Angela relaxed into everything. She could even see it in the way Angela’s eyes met her own - half-lidded and dazed, and god her smile was gorgeous. 

“Talk to me,” Ashe murmured when she spread her fingers a little and slowly knelt up between Angela’s thighs. 

“I will.” 

The fourth finger wasn’t all that difficult. Just another addition to the already pleasant fullness Angela loved so much. 

Ashe glanced up at her, then, as she slowly began working them deeper. “How much more?”

Her voice was a little raspy. Her face a little flushed. 

“All of it,” Angela breathed as her thighs tensed for a beat or two. “If you’re willing.” 

Ashe bit her lower lip as her eyelids fluttered.

She was pretty sure she’d never received a more intoxicating request. 

“I’d do anything for you, Ange,” Ashe murmured without looking at her. “You know that. I’ll take care of you.” 

“I know,” Angela was breathless again because Ashe still hadn’t stopped working. “That’s why I’m asking you for this.” 

For a moment, Angela found herself caught in the red of Ashe’s gaze and she almost felt trapped by it. If ‘trapped’ could have a pleasant connotation. She’d learned to appreciate these moments, because there was so much more in Ashe’s eyes than she seemed to be able to express. And the way her gaze dropped to what she was doing again a moment later spoke volumes. 

Ashe had never been so alert before. She’d never hung on every last gasp and twitch the way she was now - murmuring her appreciation without thought and sometimes even without words as Angela took more and more of her until Ashe had little say-so over her own pace. 

When the first soft whimper fell from Angela’s lips, Ashe slipped her hand from her thigh to brush against her clit with her thumb. 

“Too much?” Ashe asked, stilling her hand as Angela tightened around it just before the broadest part. 

“No,” Angela gasped, reaching down almost frantically between her own legs to feel when Ashe was doing. She didn’t dare sit up to see. Not when she felt as though she was about to split in two for a hundred different reasons - all of them breathtaking. Too much and not enough all at once. “No, God. Ashe…” 

Ashe watched Angela’s chest heave for a moment before she found herself captivated by the sight of Angela’s trembling fingertips touching around what little of her hand was still exposed. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Angela say her name like that. 

“Almost,” Ashe murmured - almost as much to herself as to Angela. 

“Please,” Angela gasped, sliding her now-slick hand down to wrap around Ashe’s wrist tightly. But it was nothing compared to the tightness around Ashe’s hand. 

A few more gentle twists. A few more soft strokes against Angela’s clit as Angela groaned and shuddered. 

Ashe wasn’t sure which one of them gasped harder when that last little push was all it took. She wasn’t sure which of them sobbed. 

She could only assume it was Angela, because she would never, so she leaned over her despite the fact that she was fairly certain she had no circulation past her forearm, and she reached to stroke over her hair and tilt her chin and stroke her cheek and anything else she could think of to do. 

Angela was too overwhelmed to consider what this angle might have been doing to Ashe’s arm. She was too overwhelmed to do anything but accept her quiet, hurried words of praise. 

Ashe wasn’t sure she was going to survive the feeling of Angela’s slick fingers parting on either side of her wrist. 

“Don’t stop,” Angela managed - her voice trembling both with emotion and incredibly real, all-consuming sensation. 

Ashe wasn’t sure she could move at all until Angela asked her to. But then, she could probably do anything if Angela asked her to. 

The movements were subtle. Almost non-existent. But each one had Angela’s head rolling and her eyes squeezing shut a little tighter. Her nerve endings were on fire. Every inch of her was more Ashe than it was herself. 

She’d never felt so utterly gone. So utterly a part of someone else. 

And then Ashe dared to slowly curl her fingers, and Angela stopped breathing for a moment entirely. She didn’t drag air into her lungs until she had no choice. Until she was fuller than she’d ever felt. Because this was Ashe. This was Ashe shuddering against her. Pressing weak, sweet kisses to her shoulder. Twisting her hand as much as she could. They’d both all but forgotten Ashe’s free hand until the moment Ashe began circling her clit again. 

And that was it. 

Angela couldn’t have told Ashe she was coming if she’d tried. 

She needn’t have bothered. 

Ashe was fairly certain she was about to lose her trigger hand, and she didn’t give a damn. Angela had never clung to her so hard. She’d never come for so long or failed so many times to say anything at all that made sense. 

It was fucking beautiful. 

It was the type of thing that made Ashe wish she had better words. 

Angela was still shaking as she stroked over Ashe’s face, but then - so was Ashe. 

“You’re…” Angela swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “You’re crying.” 

Ashe’s brow furrowed as she lifted her head more and looked at Angela in confusion. 

“I’m…”

She saw Angela’s smile and gave up. She couldn’t have come up with a decent excuse right then, anyway, so she gave up and slowly relaxed her hand as her forehead fell against Angela’s chest. 

“It was just a lot,” She sighed, caressing Angela’s leg as softly as she was speaking to her. “You did so well. Fuck, you did so well.” 

“You’re too much,” Angela whispered, no longer bothering to fight to keep her eyes open. “I’ve never come that hard in my life.” 

“That’s good,” Ashe murmured, and Angela chuckled with a slight wince. 

“You sound more gone than I feel,” Angela observed as she reached as far as she could to knead Ashe’s forearm. “I think I’m good.” 

Despite that reassurance, Ashe hesitated for a moment before she began slipping her hand free. Angela kissed away the apology she had ready on her lips and pulled her to lay down against her as she tugged her hand up to clean it with the sheets to look it over and find it visibly worse for wear. 

“Ashe…”

“S’fine,” Ashe sighed as she rolled onto her side and pulled Angela with her. 

“If you say so,” Angela searched Ashe’s eyes and found both nothing and more than she’d expected all at once. Eyes couldn’t really speak, after all. That was philosophical bullshit. But god, if it didn’t look like Ashe’s were trying to recite her poetry of awe and adoration. 

“I just did. And anyway, I know a real good doctor. I think I’ll be alright.” 

Angela had never found Ashe more endearing.

Something about the exhaustion on her face and the ease of the smile on her lips just felt different right then. 

“Anyway. What about you?” 

“I’m good for tonight,” Ashe said, reaching to brush Angela’s damp hair from her forehead. “I’m so good, darlin’.” 

“I assume you're staying?” Angela asked, and Ashe’s brow furrowed. 

“You couldn’t chase me away tonight if you tried.” 

“I’m not so sure, but I have no intention of trying. I’m far too tired for effort,” Angela was tracing a slow, soft touch across Ashe’s kiss-swollen lips as she spoke only to find yet another kiss pressed to the pad of her thumb. 

“Guess I’m staying, then,” Ashe said with tears still dancing in her eyes. Mercifully unmentioned. 

She couldn’t have explained them, anyway. 

Not with words. 

She couldn't have explained how it felt to be trusted for the first time in her life if she'd tried. Trusted so utterly by someone so fucking good. 

By Angela. Angela, who meant more to her than...well. 

There weren't words for that, either, really. 

But Ashe could hold her. Ashe could kiss her. 

And Ashe could be there in the morning when she woke up.

She could leave her hat on the bedpost for just a little bit longer than she had last time.


End file.
